The Trouble with Peace (The Age of Madness #2) - Joe Abercrombie Page 0,194

bolt of lightning could have struck me no more forcefully than when she said no,” mused Orso, chopping at his fish with the side of his fork. “But… perhaps she found another way to make herself queen? I hear she is with you on campaign. She always did like to keep a close eye on her investments.”

“You’ve got it all wrong!” growled Leo, wondering if he actually had it all right. His chair shrieked on the stone-flagged floor as he stood, and he had to smother a gasp at the stab of pain in his leg. “We’ve nothing more to discuss!”

“But we’ve still got the main course!”

“It’s liver,” said Hildi.

“Ah! Bernille does it so it just…” and Orso closed his eyes, touched his lips and let his fingers flutter gently off, “melts away to nothing. You know.” He opened his eyes and smiled. “Like excuses for rebellion.”

“You mind if I…?” Hildi was already poised over Leo’s half-eaten fish with a fork in her hand.

“Have at it,” he snarled as he turned for the door. “I’ll see you on the battlefield.”

Orso almost choked on his wine. “Bloody hell, I hope not.”

Doubts and Desires

“Are you awake?” whispered Leo.

Of course she was. How could she sleep with the endless kicking of her baby, the endless noise of soldiers on the move outside the window, the endless doubts, fears, hopes chasing each other around her mind like stray dogs after the butcher’s cart?

Savine had to slide her arm under her belly and half-lift it so she could wriggle over to face him. The first light was touching the sky outside, a faint gleam in the corners of his eyes, a glow on his cheek, shifting as his jaw nervously worked.

“You should go back to Ostenhorm,” he said. “It’s not safe here—”

“We’re together in this, Leo.” She tried to make her voice the essence of calm. Like a mother soothing her child. Like a lion tamer trying to keep his beast on the stool. “We have to be together in this.” She took his hand and slid it onto her belly. She wasn’t sure which of them the trembling came from. “All our futures are at stake.”

“By the dead, Savine…” His voice was the essence of panic. “Have I made a terrible mistake?”

She felt a stab of anger, then. Everyone has doubts. The Fates knew she did. But leaders have to crush their doubts down deep inside where they cannot leak out and stain the entire enterprise. It was far too late for second thoughts. The dice were out of their hands and already rolling.

She felt a stab of anger, but losing her temper was a luxury she could not afford. “You’ve done the right thing.” She made herself meet his eye, made herself sound sure. “You’ve done what you had to.”

“Can I trust Isher?”

Savine would not have trusted him to carry her night-pot. “Of course you can, he’s bound to us, Leo, he has no—”

“Can I trust Stour?”

To call Stour a wild dog was unfair. Wild dogs were at least capable of loyalty. “He respects you. And it’s a little late to be—”

“Can I trust you?”

Silence. Faint cries and clatters outside as they moved up supplies by torchlight. “How can you ask me that?” she snarled. She wanted to slap him. “You’re the one who chose this! All I’ve done is everything I can to make sure it succeeds!” And promised Uffrith to Stour, and promised the Closed Council to Isher, and promised the throne to herself. “Orso stuffed your head with doubts, didn’t he? Damn it, I told you not to underestimate him!”

Another silence. She could hear his quick breathing. She could hear her own. “You’re right,” he said grudgingly. “You’re always bloody right.” He even managed to make that sound like an accusation. “I just don’t even know where half my friends are, let alone my enemies. Rikke, and Jurand—”

“Leo—”

“What if my mother was right? What if I’m a warrior but no general? What if—”

She wished she did not always have to be the strong one. The Fates knew, she could have used some comfort. But some people need to be held up. Which means some people need to do the holding.

She clapped a hand to his head, twisted her fingers in his hair and dragged his face towards her. “Stop. You’re not just a warrior, or a leader, or a general, you’re a hero.” Heroes are defined not by what they do, after all, or why, but by what people think